Lucky
by Nomoreturningaway
Summary: Chloe Beale is the daughter of a wealthy family. Beca Mitchell has been a thief most of her life but finds herself working for the family after her old life gets blown to hell. AU Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect
1. Chapter 1

_Summary: Chloe Beale is the daughter of a wealthy family. Beca Mitchell has been a thief most of her life but finds herself working for the family after her old life gets blown to hell. AU_

 **Author's Note: Most of this was written before the second movie and has been sitting in my files for a long time now. Most chapters will average around 3,000 words, and updates will probably be infrequent.**

Chapter 1

So few people in this world could ever consider themselves 'lucky'. There is no sense of ability to climb up the social ladder. If you are wealthy, you were born that way, and you are fortunate. And none are stupid enough to waste such power. Others could slide by through trade, or simply knowing the right people, but you needed some sort of skill that was considered worthwhile. And competition was strong. A person needed to be the best of the best in their respective skill if they wanted to get anywhere. If a person found themselves without a skill, the common belief was that they would be better off dead than suffering.

It was a cruel place; a world full of death, of murderers and thieves, of people longing to see a better future, but lacking the means to obtain it. Those thoughts drove many over the edge. Those who remained pure enough not to kill or steal were often not pure enough to live through their suffering. It wasn't news when a body was found, cold and bloated after days of being ignored. It was normal.

Many turned to hard labor. Slavery was the term the average people used; better selling yourself than being dead. The wealthy families always needed people who would work for them, their only pay being meager meals and even worse housing and treatment. These people became nothing more than cattle. Their dignity stripped in the process of offering their lives wholly to another man, they became less than human, a fate considered worse than death by the many that did not fear it. Those same families, probably in an attempt to make themselves feel like they weren't doing anything wrong, referred to their slaves as laborers.

But some of these 'laborers' were lucky. It was a different sort of luck of course. It wasn't the same luck of being born into a family with money. It was being offered a second chance to live.

The Beales were a wealthy family. Their business was their land, which extended more miles in rolling plains of strawberry fields for their signature wine, in apple orchards from which came their cider, dense forestry for game and the furs that could be sold through the winter, and a lake occupied by several species of fish. The family mansion sat atop a hill in the center, over-looking the small paradise that was well kept by the folk the family kindly employed.

They were a kind family, one of the few in the world, and only seemed to breed good hearts and caring souls without an ounce of bad intent. They did not treat the men and women who served them like they were property, and the workers did not consider themselves as slaves who had given their lives away to continue living. The Beales were a rare find in a cruel world, giving many their chance to live in peace, the only chance they ever had.

Beca Mitchell considered herself lucky.

Her father had disappeared before her birth, leaving her mother and his wife with an infant to care for and no means of money. Beca had never known him; her mother never spoke of him, not even his name. Beca never asked. Growing up there was nothing to show that he had ever existed other than her own presence.

They managed for several years. Beca's mother was a healer—a breed as rare as the Beales. It was a talent that ran in a bloodline, only the women being graced with the power. They could cure sickness, mend broken bones, close the most gruesome of wounds, and many other ailments.

It brought in money and paid for food and shelter. In such a world, wounds and sickness were common and something always needed fixing, but people couldn't always pay. Beca's mother was a kind woman and tended to such people anyway and they would always find some way to pay her back, be the payment gold or something else.

How ironic that the woman died of disease.

Beca was nine when it happened, only a year away from beginning her own healing training. One could not hope to unlock their power without the guidance of another healer, and teachers were few and far between.

Rather than try to seek one out, Beca decided that she would make her own path. She was taught not to believe in destiny, and that faith was a hopeless concept created to keep people from seeking the betterment of their lives, only left to hope that it would come to them eventually. If one lost that faith, death was eminent, self-served or not. Better to never believe at all than be let down in the future.

Grace Mitchell had been a kind, gentle woman, but even she did not see past the cruelty of their world, and would not have her daughter be brought up believing in senseless ideals created by the very men that put them in their position.

Most girls in Beca's position—an orphan with no one to turn to—would fall into prostitution. There were men who sought out those very girls, only searching for some hint of kindness so that they might survive, and under the guise of a protector put them under torment, keeping them drugged and dazed to the point that they would not be aware of how wrong the situation was, giving their bodies away and receiving nothing in return, believing that they were alive, so they must be living.

Beca was not most girls. She turned instead to thievery. It began with small pickpocketing. No one would suspect such a small girl to be such a threat. Soon she became adept at lock-picking, breaking into small shops under the dark of night. She only ever took what was necessary to keep her alive, small bits of gold, furs to keep her warm at night. That was enough to keep away the thought of how disappointed her mother would be if Grace could see her actions. This was survival, that was all. There was little else she could do.

By the time she was ten she had been contacted by a guild of thieves. She had been watched for some time, her thefts counted and even scored for two months before being given the offer to join.

They became her family. Eight years she stayed with the guild, going on heists, honing her talents. She and her brother in arms Jesse Swanson, became two of the best the guild had to offer. Every day was a party, celebrating their luck at having been blessed with the skills they had, the skills that made living easy. There was no shortage of food or drink. There was no fear; who would dare harm anyone in the guild whose main rule was 'The Guild is family. Never turn your back on family, defend it with your life'? There was no questioning when things would get better—they were already great. They were feared and had the law in their pockets.

By then Beca had pushed any thoughts of her mother from her mind. This was a life Grace had scorned, taking from people who already lived with need, fueling self-greed. She would be utterly disappointed in her daughter, that she had never even tried to follow her blood, that she became a thief instead. So rather than let those thoughts control her and let them lead her away from a life that was so easy to live, Beca let the memories of her mother go.

Well, it wasn't always easy. Sometimes a heist would go south and in that situation there was little that could be done about the law besides fight it. Beca had the scars to prove it, but those losses were just mistakes she taught herself to correct. The Guild had its enemies, some who wanted revenge, some who wanted the power the Guild had.

It all turned upside-down in an instant when their leader was murdered in the night. Immediately the rule of family was forgotten as each member turned on one another, accusing each other of being the murderer. It was a bloodbath. Beca killed at least three of her brothers and sisters—she did not fully remember the incident and could not say for sure how many lives she had taken that night. But at the sight of her brother Jesse lying dead on the floor was enough to bring her mind back, to make her turn tail and run—though not before taking the hoard of gold she had beneath her bed.

For the second time, Beca had become an orphan.

Something happened in her heart after that night. The pain of losing her mother came back tenth-fold. Why would anyone choose to love in a world where everything of value was constantly being ripped away? Why would someone choose to feel that pain, time and time again? It was inevitable and Beca could not see the point of it.

So she looked only to herself. She was more capable than most: well off in a fight, sneaky and light on her feet, seductive if the situation were to call for it. She had all the skills to get what she needed, never staying in one place for long as to not get attached.

But her reputation caught up to her eventually. Rarely did she let her guard down, but at some point exhaustion had set in and she got sloppy. They found her, some men working for a family she had Jesse had stolen from some years back. That is the conclusion she had come to anyway. They beat her, left her for dead.

And along came James Beale, travelling home from a business trip. By chance he had his healer with him, a blonde, middle aged woman by the name of Gail. Her life saved, James asked of her story. She told him pieces but not all.

Everyone knew of the Beale family and their kindness. When the man offered her a place there, she would have to be a fool not to accept.

She became a part of the hunters. Beca was not suited for housework of any sort; she could not cook, couldn't knit even a simple scarf, and only ever made messes, never cleaned them. She was however, great with a bow and arrow and she had a knack for tracking.

Though the other workers were a nice bunch, each considering themselves as lucky as she, and they accepted her quickly, Beca held them all at arm's length. Her promise still stood. Eventually something would happen and she would be left alone again. Not letting the others in saved her from pain later on.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Beca slides through the undergrowth without a sound, the soft leather of her boots treading quietly, letting her feel the ground before actually lowering her weight. An elk was nearby; the fresh hoof prints left in the soft ground told her as much. For such a slow day of hunting, it would be a great prize to bring back, especially with autumn soon arriving, and after that the winter. The furs and pelts would need to be ready before then.

And Beca has a reputation to uphold. It would be a serious blow to return empty-handed.

The animal is within her sights. A male, idly shuffling his nose at the ground. Beca crouches, the brush keeping her hidden as she notches an arrow. There would only be one shot and for such a beast it would need to be clean.

"BECKY!"

The arrow snaps sideways and the elk takes off, hooves thundering against the forest floor as it makes its escape. Beca stares after her missed chance for a moment before whipping around. "Luke! What the hell was that for? I almost had it!"

Luke is the head of the hunt. He is the eldest of them and had been part of the hunt for seven years before the last head died—a gruesome story for another time. Luke was the best of them and it only made sense to appoint him to Head of the hunt. And he was damn good at his job which included sorting patrols, training new hunters, deciding who worked best together and just figuring out the best way to make the most of every hunt.

He is also the exception to Beca's rule. It is hard to keep some people out when so much time is spent alone with them. Luke wormed his way in within a month, putting them together on hunting trips to assess her skills and to keep her away from the other hunters who it soon became apparent she could not be teamed with. Being alone in the forest left much time to talk. And the blonde man became like a brother, the same way she had felt for Jesse. Maybe it was because they were so similar; the both of them with their love for all things musical be it the playing of a lute or the sound of birds singing in the trees, the way they both got their kicks in annoying Beca until it became apparent she was moments away from letting out her violent streak, only to calm her down with some well-placed words and jokes.

Luke smirks. "Almost. You should have known I was there. Awareness of your surroundings is your greatest asset as a hunter."

Beca scowls. It was true that she should have been aware of his presence. Sometimes she got lost in the hunt, the thrill of being at the top of the predators and the most feared being in the forest. The sense of power reminds her of being back in the guild. They were feared in their hold. They'd had even the guards beneath their fingers, so many too afraid to cross them lest they be robbed of anything of value they had. Businesses had been ruined for crossing the guild, people left with even less than the meager amount they had. "Pretty sure my greatest asset is my bow. But Whatever. Is there an actual reason for your being here other than to fuck up my hunt?"

"It's time for lunch and you've been out here since before dawn. You know the rules Becs. If I didn't know you so well I'd have sent out a search party."

The two begin their walk back through the forest. There is no game to be taken with them.

"Sorry, time can get away from me when I'm out here," Beca concedes, stringing her longbow to her back. "You know how it is."

Luke nods. "'Course. It's easy to happen, but you remember that it's also how Joshua died. He was the greatest hunter I've ever met, but he died because he went out alone."

"I work best alone," Beca mutters, her voice becoming dark.

Luke gives her a nervous glance, reaching back to scratch his head. "Funny you should say that…" Beca glares, waiting for him to continue. "We got a new worker this morning. Doesn't know what his skills are just yet. You'll be taking him on a hunt this evening."

"What?" Beca snaps. Was the man being especially dense today? She could barely get on with the other hunters, let alone some newbie with hardly an idea of the workings of a bow. "Luke you know that's a bad idea! Remember what happened last time?"

The hunter winces. "I do. But I have to punish you somehow for your mishap today, before others start calling me out for playing favorites. This time the boy had better come back in one piece. Otherwise you're going to be splitting wood for the next month."

…

Lunch was always a calm affair. The workers would get their trays from the cooks and take it to the fire pit where they ate every meal, sitting in a large circle. It kept them up to date with what was going on with everyone, kept them close-knit like a family. Not that Beca felt that bond. She ate her own meals in silence, only talking to the other hunters occasionally. They weren't her family, barely even friends, but the hunters came as close as they could get to that. Occasionally she would hear something funny—often from a larger blonde woman with a weird accent—and she would chuckle quietly.

"Beca!"

The huntress rolls her eyes. There was Luke, coming to introduce her to the new worker as he promised. She gets to her feet lazily and brushes some crumbs from her hands as she turns.

"Meet your temporary apprentice!" Luke announces, the smirk on his face growing wider at Beca's scowl. He steps sideways to give her a view of the newbie.

Beca feels her entire body freeze up at the sight of his face, his achingly familiar boyish features marred by scars of a harsh life. There are some new ones since she last saw him and he looks older, more gaunt, but still easily recognizable. Painfully so. It can't be true. She had seen him lying on the floor, blood flowing from a wound to his head.

But she had never checked on him. Only seen through the fray of battle before running. "By the Gods," she whispers as recognition flashes across his face. "Jesse?"

"Beca?" Luke questions, concerned. He'd never seen her so completely speechless. Never heard her use that phrase before. Beca Mitchell does not believe in the Gods and refuses to even acknowledge them.

"My eyes must be playing tricks on me!" the newcomer says, a grin stretching across his face. "Beca Mitchell?"

Beca surges forward, into Jesse's open arms.

"I thought you had died, Jesse," Beca says, a smile playing at her features. The brightest smile any had ever seen from her normally stormy face. "That night, I saw you… you looked as though you were dead! I saw you like that and I just ran! It was all so chaotic! We were supposed to be a family, but everyone was just killing each other, breaking the only goddamned rule the guild had, turning on each other. Had I known…" She shakes her head, cutting off her own babbling. Beca Mitchell does not babble. This was too much, too shocking. This isn't how life works. People don't just come back from the dead, out of the blue. people leave and stay away. People die and stay dead. Miracles are a myth, they don't happen. "What the fuck? How? This can't be real…"

Jesse grabs her hands and guides her so that they are sitting. Beca's head is spinning. "It's real. I'm alive. I was knocked unconscious that night, that's all. Beca, I searched for you for so long, I thought you were the one who had died! Nobody lasts long out there alone. Where did you go? How did you get here?"

Beca takes a deep breath, glances around as she remembers where she is, that everyone is watching her. They all have expressions of surprise of course, because Beca rarely displayed such emotion in the time they had known her, and usually that emotion was of anger and annoyance. She seemed limited to anger, distain, and sarcasm. Only Luke knew about Jesse from the stories she had told him. They all probably thought he was her long lost lover or something equally as annoying. "That night, I took all of the gold I had saved up and I ran. Skipped town, stayed at inn after inn until I ran out of gold. Then I used any means available to get more so I could keep moving. I told myself I would never get attached again. At some point my past with the guild caught up to me. The Spaides. They found my whereabouts, left me for dead until Mr. Beale found me. And here I am."

"Gods… I looked everywhere! Gene and I, we searched and searched until we finally just gave up thinking you couldn't possibly have survived."

"Thanks for having so much faith in me."

Jesse smirks. "You know as well as I do that if you're alone out there, your chances off living are less than a sickly animal. One month is stretching it, and we kept it up for an entire year."

"And after that?"

Jesse sighs. "Things got complicated. Like you, our past caught up to us. The guild wronged a whole lot of people and they wanted revenge once word got out that we were broken. We tried and got pretty far, but the other night we were at the tavern. Someone recognized us from a heist. Gene got killed, I was wounded pretty bad and I ran for it. Stole a horse and got as far as I could. Miss Gail found me on the edge of the property last night, near death."

Beca whistles. "Damn… we're pretty lucky, aren't we? The luckiest of the unlucky."

Jesse raises his cup. "I'll drink to that. Never thought I would get to see my sister again. I always told you miracles were real though!"

Beca shakes her head. Jesse had always been the optimistic one of them. He is a believer in great things and happy endings. He had always spoken of acquiring the money to buy his own plot of land, somewhere he could raise a family with the woman of his dreams, whoever she turned out to be. Beca had always been content with the guild. She punches him in the shoulder playfully. "They aren't. Don't be stupid."

…

It isn't until dinner that night that Beca realizes that she didn't know hardly any of the workers beyond the hunters. Of course she had spoken to them all a few times, heard conversations going on around her, but with the rule she set in place for herself she had done everything she could to keep herself from feeling anything toward them. That included just learning their names.

But now Jesse is introducing himself, making a show of it. He stands and calls for everyone's attention to do so, even though after their spectacle during lunch, everyone knows him and his story, how he came to be a part of this work-force. He has everyone in the circle introduce themselves as well. Jesse was one of those people who loved being around others, loved the sound of laughter and conversation and the feeling of knowing he wasn't alone in the world. Beca used to be like that too, but had lost interest after the guild fell apart.

Now She finds herself laughing at some different introductions. Some are very memorable.

There is Amy, Fat Amy she calls herself, the blonde with the weird accent. Beca finds herself laughing at the woman's antics more than once in her time, because she is just hilarious in a blunt way being that she often spoke the first thing that came to her mind. She often lied, but it seemed to be in jest because when someone called her out, she would shrug and go about her way with some off-hand comment that never made much sense, but seemed to fit her personality all the same.

Cynthia-Rose was a dark-skinned woman, a runaway slave from some other wealthy family—though the Beales had somehow managed to cover for her. She had a crass way about her that Beca enjoyed. The huntress saw the sneaky glances she often sent in the direction of Stacie, a gorgeous woman known for her sexual escapades. Stacie had even made advances at Beca herself, but the Huntress only ever brushed them off.

Bumper was an asshole. He was stuck-up and self-righteous, believing himself entitled because he had grown up there. Beca had hated him since her first day and went out of her way to not learn his name. Bumper's best friend was Donald, a foreign man who spoke little—probably because Bumper never offered him the chance.

Benji was a sweetheart. He had boyish looks about him, innocent and ever faithful to the Gods. He had been a travelling magician before coming here because in a world of hatred, magic was useless unless it could heal.

They are a large group of misfits, but seem to fit together with an ease that Beca finds herself desiring. They remind her of the guild in a way. But it was too late to change herself, and she didn't really want to. She had Jesse, and she had Luke, that was enough.


End file.
